Ex-Boyfriends

Ex-Boyfriends

They hang around, hitting on your friends
or else you never hear from them again.
They call when they’re drunk, or finally get sober,

they’re passing through town and want dinner,
they take your hand across the table, kiss you
when you come back from the bathroom.

They were your loves, your victims,
your good dogs or bad boys, and they’re over
you now. one writes a book in which a woman

who sounds suspiciously like you
is the first to be sadistically dismembered
by a serial killer. They’re getting married

and want you to be the first to know,
or they’ve been fired and need a loan,
their new girlfriend hates you,

they say they don’t miss you but show up
in your dreams, calling to you from the shoeboxes
where they’re buried in rows in your basement.

Some nights you find one floating into bed with you,
propped on an elbow, giving you a look
of fascination, a look that says I can’t believe

I’ve found you. It’s the same way
your current boyfriend gazed at you last night,
before he pulled the plug on the tiny white lights

above the bed, and moved against you in the dark
broken occasionally by the faint restless arcs
of headlights from the freeway’s passing trucks,

the big rigs that travel and travel,
hauling their loads between cities, warehouses,
following the familiar routes of their loneliness.

– Kim Addonizio

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But it’s hard to stay mad …

But it’s hard to stay mad …

But it’s hard to stay mad, when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst… And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life.

— American Beauty

I wondered what happened …

I wondered what happened …

I wondered what happened when you offered yourself to someone,
and they opened you, only to discover you were not the gift
they expected and they had to smile and nod and say thank you all the same.

— Jodi Picoult

do you suppose this is the fear that keeps us so guarded with each other? why one so rarely offers her whole self? that upon emotional inspection, to the object of our affection we are the object of his imagination disappointed.

World

World

On the other side of the world,
you pass the moon to me,
like a loving cup,
or a quaich.
I roll you the sun.
I go to bed,
as you’re getting up
on the other side of the world.
You have scattered the stars
towards me here, like seeds
in the earth.
All through the night,
I have sent you
bunches, bouquets, of cloud
to the other side of the world;
so my love will be shade
where you are,
and yours,
as I turn in my sleep,
the bud of a star.

– Carol Ann Duffy